Peach Schnapps
by Kelly123
Summary: Emma feels funny...and the night goes from there. ONESHOT


_Ok, don't get me wrong! I am not a copycat!_

_So yes, I wrote an eman story... not long after moirariordan wrote one. But it was a total coincidence, I swear! I have been wanting to write one since I wrote "More" and got a review saying, "_ps. I cant believe you totally hate semma. Shame because you could totally write wonders with their history cries... too think you wont!" _But the thing is that I don't hate them together, I just can't stand their characters. But Sienna (my reviewer), made me kind of itch to pen something about them, and so I did. And here it is. And although Meagan is by far my favorite writer, I wrote this of my own accord! Umm, yeah, so here it is, its kind of strange, I'm not gonna lie, so bear with me. I got this idea after one too many glasses of wine at a party and did my fair share of drunk dialing an ex-boyfriend... oops. This is set back before this season began, in the summer before school starts. Sean isn't back and Emma is still with Peter. That should be enough to get you through the story. I don't own Degrassi, enjoy!_

* * *

Emma felt funny. 

And not "ha ha" funny, more of a "something's off" funny.

Or, "I don't have a good feeling about this" funny.

Or maybe it was just "what the hell am I doing here" kind of funny.

In any case, it wasn't a good feeling.

And all the damn alcohol circulating through her system wasn't helping things out a bit either.

For Pete's sake, she hadn't even wanted to go to this stupid frat party in the first place! _Manny_ was the one who got the invite, and _Manny_ was the one who insisted they needed to get a taste of college life before they started their final year of high school, and _Manny_ was the one who threatened to go by herself if Emma insisted on throwing such a bitch fit about the whole thing.

...and Manny was the one who couldn't be left to her own devices around vodka and sex-crazed boys.

And Emma was the one who frowned and shut her mouth and sulkingly conceded to attend and play her best friend's sober babysitter for the duration of the night.

And Peter was the one who answered a phone call before the girls left, one assuring him that yes, Emma would miss him, and no, it was fine that he stayed at home, and of course, she would be careful.

Because Emma was _always_ careful.

Well, almost always.

Most of the time.

Except with "Jordan."

Except with Jay.

Except now, accepting the red shot from a tall brunette boy with out a second thought, grimacing as she gulped it down quickly, the whiskey burning a determined path down her throat.

But the burn, she soon discovered, lost a little bit more heat with every trip it took.

And it took quite a few.

And now, just like the liquor she swallowed, she too was on a mission.

It was just that she couldn't quite remember what it was.

Manny, possibly?

Oh yes, she needed to get home, but she had to find Manny first. That was it. Manny, then home, and maybe the funny feeling would go away.

Then she felt a strange pinch and an uncomfortable twist in her gut, one that wasn't due to the funniness or her overindulgence in royal fucks, and a small wave of guilt (a precursor to the waves of nausea to follow later) and she felt ashamed for not sticking beside her friend that night like she knew she should have.

It was just that she couldn't quite remember why she hadn't.

Paige, possibly?

Oh yes, because Michaelchuck had evidently been invited to the same party as they had. Beause despite their infamous catfight, the ex-cheerleaders had evidently decided to bury the hatchet. Because evidently, fucking Spinner Mason can really bring two girls together.

Because evidently, Manny only needed one blonde in her life at a time, and Paige was filling the spot at the moment. Emma took this opportunity to make her exit.

Let someone else look after Manny for once.

Yeah.

As she stood in the hallway, contemplating whether to find Manny and leave, or wallow in her self-pity for a bit longer, her cell buzzed happily from inside of her pocket. The brightly lit screen danced around in front of her eyes for a few seconds, the words and symbols swirling together in a haze of alcohol-induced stupor before it came into focus and she could read Manny's text.

"Where R U!"

Emma blinked a few times, and the funny feeling crept back upon her, stronger than ever.

"Where are _you_?" she mused silently.

But she wasn't thinking of Manny.

It had been over a year, but despite of deleting the number from her phonebook, her fingers remembered the route well and in seconds she held the ringing phone up to her ear.

Swallowing hard, all thoughts of Manny pushed far from her mind, she ducked into a nearby room and thankfully found it both empty and quiet.

Unfortunately, she could not say the same for her heart.

He answered on the fifth ring (she counted), and by the abundance of background noise coming through the receiver she guessed he was at a party as well. His tone was cheerful, and she felt a twinge of irritation that he was not as miserable as she was.

"Hey" she said back, not offering her name and telling herself that if he didn't recognize her voice she would hang up. Hang up, block his number, and never think about him again.

But he did.

"Emma?" he replied, his voice decidedly less cheerful, more confused, and... worried? "Emma, is that you? Just a sec," and then there was some shuffling, and the noise faded until all she could hear from his end of the line was a muffled "fuck" and then "You still there Em? I had to get somewhere a little quieter."

She smiled to herself then, forgetting to answer him for a moment as she pictured them like this, each shut away in abandoned rooms miles apart while two parties rage on around them. It would be nice though, if they were at the same party...

"Em? You there Emma?"

The image disappeared at the sound of his voice, and she shook her head to clear her thoughts. A bad idea, she decided, as the room spun around her painfully after the sudden movement.

"Yeah, I'm here. Where else would I be?" she answered honestly, trying her best not to slur her words.

But failing miserably.

"Emma, have you been drinking?" he asked, and his voice was a bit dubious. Damn him. Was it so hard to believe that Emma Nelson could enjoy herself at a party?

"Why? Haven't you Sean?" She shot back accusingly.

"Not as much as you, evidently."

The line was silent as she pouted, refusing to answer him. He broke the quiet.

"Emma, are you okay? Why did you call me?"

Why had she called him?

Since when did she need a reason?

Oh yeah, since they broke up, stopped talking and he moved away.

But she didn't like needing a reason to hear his voice.

"Because I missed you." she said, knowing that this was the alcohol loosening her tongue and not minding in the slightest. It was the truth, after all.

"I miss you too Em." He answered, his voice softening.

"Sean..."

"Yeah?"

"We're going to get married, aren't we?"

If he had answered took quickly she would have known he was lying. Too long of a pause and she would have known so too. Just as she would have if his voice was too high, or too low, or too strained or too.. anything but how she knew it was supposed to be. But if he answered just right, only a small pause as he processed the question, rolled the words around on his tongue before offering a confident reply that let her know he had thought about the same thing himself...

"Yes, Emma, we will."

"Really?"

"Of course. You never really had any doubt did you?"

"No. Not really. I just miss you... so much sometimes."

"I love you Emma, I always will."

"I love you too Sean. Bye"

As she snapped the phone shut, warm and tingly and satisfied, she couldn't help but smile.

She didn't feel funny anymore.

However, the feeling was fleeting, and soon a new kind of funny swept over her.

Not like "I miss my one true love" funny.

More like "Oh my god, where is a trashcan" funny.

So thank God she found the bathroom in time.

And thank God it wasn't occupied.

And so as she heaved and coughed for what seemed like an eternity into the porcelain bowl, a thought crossed her mind as the strange aftertaste lingered in her mouth.

What the hell else was in those royal fucks?

* * *

_This was quite different for me, and I don't know if I captured Emma correctly. So let me know so I can improve if I decide to write any more Eman fics in the future._


End file.
